Coming into His Own
by LadyAlambiel
Summary: For Edmund, coming into his own occurred during the first battle after their coronation.


Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't...

Summary: For Edmund, coming into his own occurred during the first battle after their coronation.

A/N: This is part of my _A Light in the Darkness_ universe, but this oneshot can be read as a standalone.

**Coming into His Own**

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Edmund took a shaky breath as he swiped his mouth. Waiting for battle was horrible. He had been sick before Beruna and now he was sick again. He wished he could be just a little more like Peter since his brother hadn't gotten sick before Beruna...lucky prat. He put his helmet on and blew out a breath before strapping on Shafhelm and picking up his shield. Leaving the tent, he was relieved to see that no one looked like they were standing close enough to have heard him losing his breakfast. Thank Aslan for small favors.

He tried to keep his gait steady and confident as he walked over to where Philip was waiting. The Horse and he had come to a quiet agreement after Beruna: neither one of them would ever mention the fact that he called Philip 'Horsey' on that first day of riding. Now Philip watched him with one large brown eye before he quietly asked, "Are you all right, King Edmund?"

Edmund gulped then combed his gloved fingers through Philip's mane, "Aye, Philip. Are...are you ready?"

The Horse nudged his arm, "Yes. But we won't get anywhere if you don't climb into the saddle."

Edmund smirked and Philip whickered a short laugh, obviously pleased to have amused him, "As you say, Philip, as you say." Hauling himself into the saddle, Edmund settled himself and gathered the reins. He was grateful Philip was carrying him into this battle. He straightened then carefully pressed his legs against Philip's sides like the Horse had instructed him when they first started riding together after Beruna. Philip easily carried him to where Peter was sitting atop Faries as he waited beside Oreius. Edmund met his brother's steady gaze and when Peter nodded at him, he suddenly felt far more secure about going into this battle.

Oreius looked at him and Edmund wondered if the Centaur was going to add something else to the long lecture he had given them last night after they finished finalizing their battle plans. "Your majesties." Oreius waited until both he and Peter were looking at him before he simply stated, "Try not to get killed."

Edmund suppressed the urge to laugh, but nearly did so anyway when he caught Peter's amused look. He wasn't certain though whether Oreius was actually joking or not. He peeked at the Centaur's stern face and decided he probably hadn't been joking. He suddenly leaned toward Peter and whispered, "He means you."

Peter elbowed him with his shield, but his retort died on his lips when Oreius cast him a stern look, much to Edmund's delight. Instead, Peter looked at him, "Ready Ed?"

Edmund nodded, "Ready." He turned Philip and rode to his assigned position, praying all the while that the battle would be in their favor and that Peter wouldn't do anything stupid.

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They had been fighting for hours. Edmund had lost sight of Oreius an hour ago. Peter was now fighting on foot about four yards away from where Edmund was still hacking at the Fell from atop Philip's back. He wasn't sure where or how Peter had lost Faries, in fact, he wasn't even sure where the Unicorn had gone. They were both pinned down by at least thirty Fell and there were only six other soldiers in their area, so four yards might as well have been the same as the distance from the Western Woods to the Eastern Sea. Edmund froze a moment watching with terror as Peter fought off a Minoboar and a Cyclopes, both determined to pound his brother into smithereens. He needed to get to Peter and fast. He nudged Philip's left side right before he fended off a surprise attack by a Cougar who had gone Fell. He thrust Shafhelm into the mangy-looking Beast's throat, redirecting his gaze to scan the battlefield as he did so. The Cougar dropped without a sound and Philip kicked it once in the head just to be sure it was dead.

Edmund twisted around the sound of Peter's shout, but before he could spy his brother and whatever trouble he had just landed in, he heard another, much closer bellow. He turned back just in time to see a huge Minotaur charging for him and Philip. "Philip!"

Edmund didn't even have time to raise his shield before the Minotaur slammed into him and Philip so hard that the Horse was knocked clean off his hooves while Edmund went flying over the Minotaur's head to land with excruciating force on his back. He gasped for breath and struggled to see past the black dots floating across his vision. His battered lungs didn't want to pull in enough oxygen for him to raise his shield in defense when he saw the Minotaur raise his huge battle-axe.

Then, beyond the ringing in his ears, Edmund heard a fierce cry, "Eddmuuuund!" Peter! The Minotaur never stood a chance. Sir Peter Wolfsbane, High King Peter the Magnificent, fell on him with all his terrible golden fury. Edmund was still arguing with his lungs about the whole breathing matter when he saw Peter take down the Minotaur then give him a horrified a look before he whirled back around and charged the nearest Fell creature.

Edmund finally sat up and immediately had to kill an attacking Fell that he didn't even a name for, not to mention it looked utterly revolting. He staggered to his feet then scanned the field for Philip. A Horse's scream rang out and he shuddered even as he started running toward the sound. He feared what had happened to make Philip (there was no doubt in his heart that it was Philip) scream like that...he finally climbed a small hillock, hacking down a Ghoul as he reached the top, and his breath hitched again when he spotted Philip being driven away from their area by several Fell including two Werewolves. Oh sweet Aslan, don't let them get Philip. Edmund would have watched longer but then another Ghoul launched himself at him with a shriek. He slammed the top of his shield into the Ghoul's head then swiftly followed the blow by jabbing Shafhelm between the Fell creature's ribs before a defense could be prepared. The Ghoul dropped with an abrupt shriek.

Edmund's eyes flicked from one red tabard to another as he tried to spy Peter in the midst of the swarming mass of warriors, of whom an alarming amount were Fell, without success. Finally, his eyes lit on a line of fallen Fell. Peter! It had to be Peter! Tightening his grip on his sword, Edmund charged back down the hillock and followed the path of downed Fell in hopes of reaching his brother before Peter found himself in a fight he couldn't handle. He swore a long and very impressive list of curses as the Fell all seemed to conspire against him reaching his brother in time. Oh, where was the great oaf?

Edmund cut down a Bear that had gone Fell then whirled to block the strike from a Hag. She clacked her beak at him, "Traitor!"

Edmund licked his lips then the words Aslan had spoken to him on the hill came back to him in a enveloping warmth. He narrowed his eyes at the Hag, "Not anymore."

He surprised her by stabbing Shafhelm into the ground before he wiggled his arm free of his shield. Grabbing his shield by both sides, Edmund slammed the broad top against the Hag's face and neck as hard as he could. She shrieked in pain and rage and he heard the terrible sound of cracking bones before a Leopard raced up from behind and tackled her away from him. Edmund didn't even pause as he dropped the shield and continued running toward where he hoped to find Peter.

Rounding the corner of a rocky outcropping, Edmund was relieved to see Peter fighting like a madman only a few feet ahead. But, his relief changed to horror when he saw the huge Ogre lumbering toward Peter with a raised spiked club. Peter was so focused on fighting off a Werewolf and another Minotaur that he apparently hadn't registered the Ogre's approach. Edmund started running faster, but the tightening band of fear around his heart seemed to underscore the fact that he just wasn't fast enough to reach Peter in time. Peter killed the Werewolf and the Minotaur in quick succession, but he hadn't been fast enough. The Ogre swung his spiked club at Peter's vulnerable back and Edmund screamed, "Peeeterrr!"

Peter turned slightly then jumped back. The Ogre's club still clipped him and sent him spinning to the ground. Edmund was horrified to see his brother's helmet go rolling across the matted grass. He went cold and silent as he rushed forward. The Ogre raised his club to crush and pierce Peter as he lay unmoving on the ground. Shafhelm flashed in the sun as Edmund brought it down with as much force as possible and sliced through the Ogre's meaty forearm and cracked into the bone. The Ogre jerked his arm back and up, nearly jerking Shafhelm out of Edmund's grasp before the sword slid free of the wound. The Ogre bellowed in rage as he turned bloodshot eyes onto the younger King. Edmund remained cool as he took up a protective stance in front of Peter who was still lying motionless on the ground. The Ogre grunted then stretched his uninjured arm out reaching for...Rhindon! Edmund couldn't let the abomination take possession of Peter's sword. He lunged forward. The Ogre raised his knee and Edmund slammed his forehead against the top edge of the Fell creature's iron greaves. Edmund's ears were ringing again but he still managed to slash the back of the Ogre's thigh with Shafhelm. The Ogre bellowed and stumbled back a step. Edmund pushed himself back to his feet, and charged the Ogre, angling Shafhelm to pierce the Fell's unprotected side. He felt the blade slice through skin, fat, muscle, and finally organs. He pulled Shafhelm free as the Ogre toppled to the ground, finally dead.

Turning around, he scooped up Rhindon and jogged back to Peter, pausing only to clean Shafhelm on the grass. Edmund finally took a long shaky breath as he knelt by his brother. "Oh Peter." Fearing what he would find, Edmund carefully rolled his brother over, wincing in sympathy when Peter let out a low pained moan. His heart shot into his throat when he saw the bloody puncture wounds and tears in Peter's chainmail. His left shoulder looked odd and Edmund suspected it was broken, while Peter's face was nearly white save for the bloody gash just above his left eye. Edmund tugged his glove off then pressed his fingers against Peter's neck, searching for his pulse, it was fast and thready when he finally found it. Oh no, oh no, oh no. He needed to get Peter to a healer and fast.

Edmund carefully slid Rhindon back into its sheath then he sheathed his own sword before reaching down for Peter. He had to see if he could wake him enough to at least help carry the great prat's weight so it wasn't all on his shoulders. A coarse voice froze Edmund mid-stoop and his eyes shot up as it called out, "Where does the little king think he can go? Nowhere. Least not with his brother. Leave the golden one, dark one. He's dead anyway. Save yourself. Go on, I'll let you run first."

Edmund didn't answer. Instead, he drew Shafhelm and stepped over Peter just as his brother moaned again. The Fell came into sight and Edmund had the sudden fervent wish that the creature had remained hidden. He gulped then tightened his two-handed grip on the sword hilt as he met the gaze of the Fell. Toxic, slightly froggish in its appearance, the muddy creature's swollen neck and bulbous face, not to mention the muddy-toned skin with what looked like all kinds of poisonous fungi dotting it from head to tail, allowed Edmund to identify it as a Marsh Horror. He felt ill just looking at it. But then the Marsh Horror whipped its thin, bald tail and begun making odd sounds as it raised a jagged and slender blade to the level of its face and then...it regurgitated a greenish substance onto the blade. Ugh, now that was just revolting.

Edmund barely resisted jerking back at the sight. But, he held his ground though he swore he would keep that blade as far from his body, armor included, as possible. The Marsh Horror grinned hideously at him as it raised its blade and charged toward him and his prostrate brother. Edmund took a breath, "For Peter." He narrowed his eyes as he counted the Marsh Horror's steps. Raising Shafhelm, Edmund leapt forward as soon as the Marsh Horror was twelve paces away. The Fell creature hadn't expected that and it flinched back. Emdund became a deadly silent storm as he battered the Marsh Horror back from Peter while still keeping its revolting bile-covered blade away from his body. The Marsh Horror stumbled and Edmund took advantage of the unexpected opening. Shafhelm sliced through the air and cut into the Marsh Horror's swollen throat. Edmund leaped back and slapped a hand over his mouth and nose as the foul creature gurgled as a deluge of revolting green liquid fell from the wound before it mixed with the dark blood of the cut deep into its shoulder and chest. The Marsh Horror finally collapsed and Edmund immediately wiped Shafhelm clean on the grass, a little worried of what the repulsive liquid would do to the blade if it stayed on too long. Edmund gagged as he turned away from the body, but thanked Aslan when he didn't get sick. Though staying too long in the vicinity of the dead Marsh Horror might change that fact.

Edmund hurried back to Peter as he sheathed the now-clean Shafhelm. Fortunately, when he reached him, Peter's eyes were open though he didn't seem to be focusing very well. He squinted at him, "Edmund?"

Edmund nearly sagged in relief before he snapped, "Of course, it's me. Who else would it be?" He shook his head, "You self-noble prat of an idiot, what were you thinking running off without anyone to watch your back? Oreius is going to be furious when he finds out. You were supposed to avoid getting yourself killed, not run arms wide at the Fell and begging for them to kill such an easy target." He abruptly stopped speaking then threw his arms around Peter's neck, "Don't do that again, you great lummox." Peter hissed in pain and Edmund quickly drew back, "I'm sorry. Here let me help you stand. You need a healer."

Keeping his eyes closed, Peter shook his head, "Is the battle over?"

Edmund paused then looked around in confusion before turning back to his brother, "I...I guess so."

Peter smiled faintly as his eyes fluttered open again, "You missed the ending of the bat- Edmund! You're hurt!"

Edmund frowned then reached up and felt a flash of pain as his hand connected with his forehead. His hand came away red and his frown deepened to a scowl as he tried remember just when he had lost his helmet. He couldn't. Dismissing it for the time being, Edmund reached down and grabbed Peter's right arm, "Come on, you have to see the healers."

Peter whispered as he leaned heavily against Edmund, "So do you."

Edmund didn't answer as he focused on keeping Peter upright while also maintaining an awareness of their surroundings. They trudged together back in the general direction of their camp, one slow unsteady step at a time. It felt like they had been walking forever and the blood from his cut kept spilling into Edmund's eyes, nearly blinding him as he struggled to keep Peter upright. He heard the distant rumble of thunder and wondered if it was about to rain on them too. Peter suddenly slipped, nearly pulling them both to the ground, but Edmund gritted his teeth and managed to just barely keep them upright. Edmund shifted his shoulder so he was more firmly supporting Peter's weight. They couldn't be that far from the camp now, but he hadn't seen a single soldier. He prayed he hadn't gotten them lost...he didn't think Peter would be able to stay conscious long enough for him to find their way again if they were lost.

Rain continued to threaten as the brothers continued making the effort to just find the edge of the camp. Edmund braced Peter a little more as he took another staggering step, but nearly fell himself. Suddenly, another pair of arms wrapped themselves around both him and his brother. He tilted his head back and blinked through the blood running freely down his face to see General Oreius looking down at them. The Centaur's silent concern was obvious as he supported them on the agonizingly slow journey to the camp.

They reached the camp just as the rain began to fall. Alithia looked more than a little concerned when she saw them. Edmund let her take Peter, but for some reason Oreius stayed with him. He frowned and tried to ask the General what he was doing. But, instead the General moved around to stand in front of him and bent to look him in the eyes as he asked in an odd echoing voice, "What did you save your brother from, Sir How?"

He blinked sluggishly then whispered, "An Ogre and a Marsh Horror...it was revolting." He noticed that Oreius gave a faint smirk at his description of the Marsh Horror but then full-fledged concern and alarm appeared on the Centaur's face right before everything went dark.

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It was raining and he was cold. Those were the first things he registered. He opened his eyes to see the familiar ceiling of his tent, well his and his brother's tent since they always shared. His brother. The thought made him try to sit up only to hiss at a sharp lancing pain in his left side and then a throbbing in his head made its charming presence known. "Don't try to sit up yet. You took a lot of hard knocks this time."

He turned his head carefully and felt an immense weight lift off his chest when he saw his brother, hair sticking up around the edges of his bandages and more bandages peeking out from the neck of his loose under tunic. He sighed, completely uncaring of how relieved he sounded, "Peter."

Peter smiled, "'lo Ed."

Edmund shifted again, "What happened?"

Peter's smile vanished as he answered in a low voice, "You were nearly gored by that Minotaur and then you almost bled to death trying to get me back to camp on your own. You are so lucky Oreius found us after Philip told him what happened to you. Alithia said you could have died from blood loss if we had wandered any further off-course. I heard them speculating on whether they needed to send for Lucy and her cordial."

Both brothers jumped when a new voice joined the conversation, "We feared we would require the cordial for both of you."

Edmund carefully turned his head to meet the serious gaze of their general, "Oreius."

Oreius bowed slightly, "Your majesty, I'm glad to see you are awake."

Edmund licked his lips then softly asked as he felt his cheeks warm, "Would you help me get over there?" He pointed toward Peter's hammock, "Peter has a bad habit of falling out of his hammock when he tries to get up and I think the best way to keep him from trying to move too soon is if I'm over there to keep him from doing anything stupid."

At first, he thought Oreius might refuse, then the General silently stepped over and with surprising gentleness, helped Edmund out of his hammock and across the tent to Peter's hammock where his brother was just watching in stunned silence. Oreius helped Edmund into the hammock and turned. Edmund thought he was leaving, but the Centaur merely picked up all the blankets from his empty hammock and carried them to Peter's hammock. Edmund watched in surprise as the fierce General carefully laid each blanket over them and made sure all the edges were tucked in so there weren't any drafts. Oreius straightened from adjusting the last blanket and looked at them with that small glint of fondness Edmund had noticed on rare occasions in the few short months since their coronation. The Centaur laid a large hand on his blanket-covered shoulder, "You fought well today, Sir Edmund of the How." Edmund watched speechless as Oreius turned and left the tent without another word.

"Hey Edmund."

"Yeah?"

Edmund felt Peter squeeze his hand as he whispered, "Happy birthday." Peter shifted a little more beside him so he could touch his fingers to the edge of the bandage wrapped around Edmund's head, "So, what did you hit your head on, little brother?"

"What? Oh...I think I hit an Ogre's kneecap whilst I was busy saving you."

Peter chuckled then whispered, "Don't ever do this again, brother mine."

Edmund snorted, "I won't if you won't, brother mine." He sleepily thought it wouldn't take more than a few weeks before he and his brother found themselves in bruised and battered conditions...again. Peter didn't answer though, stalling the argument until morning at least. Edmund yawned then closed his eyes. His last thought before sleep claimed him was there were worse ways to spend his tenth birthday than saving the life of his big brother.

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**A/N: Please read and review! Okay, so this oneshot was inspired by the entry Support from _One Hundred Moments_ and tells the requested story behind that small two-sentence blurb. Leave a review and let me know what y'all think about this one.**


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